The Euros have kicked off and Scottish football supporters feel as if they are standing in the street, their noses pressed up against the window of the sweetie shop with no chance of getting in. Except for me. The size of my nose means I am standing in a different postcode with my proboscis pressed against the window.
So when will we be allowed to get into the sweet shop and knock the Mars bars placed invitingly at the front of the counter? Or, more prosaically, when are we ever going to qualify for a major tournament?